Party Foul
by the ramblin rose
Summary: Carick AU. Oneshot. Carol's had a bit too much to drink. She's had enough to embarrass herself. But Rick doesn't seem to notice nor to mind. Carol/Rick Carrick Carick


**AN: Here we go. This "scene" was a tumblr prompt that wanted Carol and Rick meeting drunk at a party. I took a few liberties here.**

 **I own nothing from the show.**

 **I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!**

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Carol hadn't had this much to drink in—well she couldn't recall when she'd ever had this much to drink. She probably hadn't had all that much, at least not in comparison to many of the people that talked and laughed around her, but she'd had a lot by her own standards. She didn't usually drink. It just wasn't something she was very interested in doing too often. She'd seen, with her ex-husband what could happen if someone got drunk and happened to be the "wrong kind" of drunk and it had, psychologically she supposed, made the activity less desirable for her.

Tonight, though, she was partaking and doing it without shame. She didn't know, yet, how she'd get home, but she'd find a way.

The party was a meet and greet or a mix and mingle or some other such sort of cute-nicknamed gathering in the new town where she had recently moved. She'd followed a good job there. When the job moved, and she'd had the option to job hunt in the old town where a lot of not so great memories resided or go house hunting in the new town, she'd opted to follow the job.

Already it was feeling like a great decision.

She was renting a cute little house, one that she might end up buying once she had a few more conversations with the landlord about his interest to sell the property, and her daughter already loved her school and was making friends.

And Carol was looking, for the first time in the two years since she'd last had contact with Ed Peletier, to find friends. She already had a few, of course, but she was looking to socialize. She was looking to feel normal. She was craving something that she thought she might never crave again. She was craving human interaction.

And she was considering, even though it made her pulse pick up and her palms get sweaty just to think about it, giving men another chance.

She'd mentioned it in passing to Michonne, her boss and friend, when she'd been helping her unpack the many, many boxes that Michonne asked her to help her move as part of transferring the law office to a larger branch.

That's how she'd heard about the party. Michonne thought, even though it wasn't quite the gathering for her as a mother of two and a happily married woman, that the party might be just the thing for Carol. To be sure, also, that Carol couldn't and wouldn't protest? Michonne was keeping Sophia for the night.

Tonight? Carol was single, child-free, and worry-free. And drunk. She was most assuredly drunk. At least, if not obliterated, she was drunker than she was really used to.

Suddenly realizing that her vision was not what it should be, Carol started toward the table at the side of the room where the drinks were, and where they were constantly being refreshed, in search of water. She needed water. Suddenly? She needed water and she had the instant feeling that she needed air too.

She'd met a few people tonight, talked to even more, and the last thing that she needed to do was to puke all over the floor and seal her fate as having made a terrible first impression on everyone who had come out—new and old to the town.

On her way to the table, though, to search for a battle of water before she fled for a door, Carol ran right into someone. She ran into them full force. She ran into them like she meant it. In her mind? She ran into them like this was the most important tackle of a football game.

She was pretty sure she nearly sent them off their feet because she nearly lost her footing with the kickback of the impact. She might have fallen backwards, too, except for the fact that the man she ran into reached out and grabbed her quickly. He pulled her into him, not to be inappropriate in the slightest but rather to simply stop her from teetering one direction or another and landing on the floor.

"Oh—thank you. Oh—I'm sorry," she stammered out.

He laughed. He thought it was funny and he laughed. She was a little mortified, but he was laughing.

"Hey...are you alright?" The man asked.

Carol shook her head. If she'd felt a little like she might be sick before, the impact from the collision had made it worse.

"Water...and air. I just need water and air," she stammered. She was embarrassing herself more, no doubt, but whatever mortification she suffered in front of this man would be nothing compared to what she'd feel if she actually lost the contents of her stomach on the floor.

He reacted quickly. Far more quickly than she might have imagined, though, and then her world was spinning. Her step faltered as it felt like she was being turned around on a giant merry-go-round, her vision blurring slightly as she turned, but she didn't fall. The man—whoever he was—had turned her around, already back from his fast trip, and he was holding tight to her as he led her out.

She closed her eyes because she couldn't handle the way that things seemed to be moving in her vision at the moment, and he led her out, not letting her fall or run into anything. And after what seemed like a very long trip, she heard a metallic creak and she burst out into clean air. She sucked it in, greedily, not thinking about leaving any for anyone else who might have suddenly grown very hot and almost suffocated.

Her guide continued to move her until she felt, flat against her back, a hardness that could only be a wall. She stood, eyes still closed, and breathed for a moment. She opened her eyes only when she felt something touch her lips.

"Drink this?" The man said.

There was a bottle to her lips. Like a child, she succumbed to letting him lift it and empty some of the contents into her mouth. It was water and, at the moment, it was the sweetest taste that she'd ever tasted. She drank it as greedily as she'd inhaled the air.

"Can you hold it? Are you alright?" The man asked. "I'm Rick. What's your name?"

"Carol," she said, hoping that the words coming out of her mouth were intelligible. She'd know a moment later when he responded.

"Carol," he said, some amusement in his voice. "Stay here, Carol? Right here? Don't move at all. Drink your water. I'm going to get you another bottle. But stay here?"

Carol somewhat agreed to the terms. She had no desire to go anywhere and she was most assuredly going to finish the bottle of water. He gave it to her and she drank it while he disappeared.

This time, though, the trip didn't seem to take him as long. With the help of the cooling, life-giving air and the sweet water, Carol was feeling a little better too. By the time he returned, her head wasn't swimming as violently and her vision, although not the best it had ever been, wasn't quite as blurred.

He cracked open a second bottle of water and prompted Carol to drink the rest of the first before he took the empty bottle from her. He put a hand near her head, against the wall, and stood in front of her, leaning on that hand.

Rick—her guide and something of a savior for the moment—seemed to think that this entire thing was delightful, even as Carol apologized again for her embarrassing actions.

"I don't usually drink," she explained.

"So I guessed," Rick said.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"Don't be," Rick said. "Sometimes it's nice to run into a beautiful lady."

Carol blushed a little at the compliment. Maybe it made her head swim a little more. She swallowed down water to hide it.

"I ran into you," she said. "You didn't run into me."

Rick chuckled.

"I've always wondered what it would be like to be swept off my feet," he teased. "I guess I had a romantic notion that it might happen a little differently."

Carol laughed at that. Even through her embarrassment—a very sobering emotion—she couldn't keep from giving into the humor of it as Rick presented it.

"How are you feeling now?" Rick asked. "A little better?"

Carol took quick inventory of her settings. Her vision was a lot better at the moment. Her knees weren't shaky. She could breathe and it didn't feel like every breath was her last. Her stomach wasn't churning, her mouth wasn't dry, and her head? Well, at the moment, she felt pleasantly tipsy, but she didn't feel nearly as drunk as she had.

She laughed to herself and nodded.

"I think this water is magical," she said. "Or—you are."

She felt the burn in her cheeks again. She was flirting. It was the first time she'd flirted in—well probably as long as it had been since she'd been drunk. She was shamelessly flirting with this man and she couldn't believe it.

But who wouldn't? Rick was handsome and he was flattering—and he'd rescued her from possibly making a fool of herself.

He smiled and she wondered if he was blushing. The light wasn't good enough for her to tell. Maybe he couldn't see the heat in her face either.

"I think it's mostly the water," Rick said. "And the air. You look better."

Suddenly he went wide eyed. The words that followed were slightly stammered out. Maybe Carol wasn't the only one that sometimes did things she immediately regretted.

"I mean—you look fine. You look good. But you were pale in there. You looked like you didn't feel well. Now? You look like you're feeling better," Rick said.

"I'm always pale," Carol said. "Redhead. Or I used to be. Pale is just part of the package."

Rick laughed at that too.

"So—Carol. Do you have a last name?" He asked.

"McAlister," Carol said. "Formerly Peletier, but we all make mistakes."

Rick chuckled.

"Rick Grimes," he said. "The names the same, but I understand the mistakes."

Carol smiled at him. The conversation was easy. It was far easier than she might have expected it to be after such a near-miss catastrophe. It had been some time since she'd had a pleasant, easy conversation with a man—especially one as handsome as Rick.

"Are you new here too?" Carol asked.

Rick sucked his teeth and shook his head. He leaned a little closer to her, his hand against the wall working as his support again, and Carol closed her eyes for a moment. He spoke, though, and she felt a little amused at herself. Had she honestly thought that he was going to do something else? He was just shifting his weight. He certainly wasn't going to kiss her.

"I've been here too long," he said. "But—since I got divorced? I haven't exactly been out much. I thought this might be the ticket. Get out there again. Meet some nice people."

Carol hummed.

"Me too," she said. "I mean, I haven't been here long. I just moved here. But I thought I'd come out and meet some nice people. I've talked to a few—but I guess I ruined it all by not knowing my limit."

"I think you've figured your limit out," Rick said. "You're not too far over it."

"How about you? Did you?" Carol asked.

Rick furrowed his brow.

"Did I?" Rick asked, seeking clarification.

"Meet some nice people?" Carol asked.

Rick hummed and seemed to laugh to himself again. When he looked at her this time, he looked at her intensely. He held her eyes, even in the dim light, and she really thought that he might kiss her. People didn't regularly look at her with such focus.

"Just one," Rick said. "But—they say it's about quality over quantity."

Carol offered him a soft smile, but she was too trapped by his gaze to do or say anything else for the moment. She watched his eyes, then trailed her vision to his lips, but nothing happened. When she moved her eyes from his, the spell seemed broken.

He straightened up, scuffed a shoe at the ground, and looked around him like he was surveying the space. Now Carol knew that they were out in the front of the building. The parking lot was feet away, but she wasn't good to drive. She would have to find another route home.

Another problem that, as though he could read her mind, her savior for the night solved almost immediately.

"I was just about to get out of here when I ran into you," Rick said. "I was—going to go home, but there's not much there to do. I had a couple, early in the night, but I'm good to drive by now. Would you like a ride? Maybe—go get a cup of coffee? Then I could drop you back home."

Carol was surprised by the invitation. He read her hesitation as something else.

"I know people say they're fine to drive all the time," Rick said. "But I really am. I'm a police officer. I know my limits well."

"I wasn't going to suggest you didn't," Carol corrected quickly. "I just—wasn't expecting that. I think—I think I thought that I'd embarrassed myself a little too much tonight."

Rick laughed.

"You haven't embarrassed yourself at all," he said. "But—I'm going to pretty embarrassed. If you turn me down? So—coffee? Or if you're tired, I understand. I could just drop you by wherever you're staying."

Carol smiled and shook her head.

"Coffee sounds wonderful," she said. "Then you can drop me by my house. Sound fair?"

Rick smiled, but he covered it quickly. He was suddenly trying not to seem quite as enthusiastic as he'd seemed moments before. But he did offer an arm to Carol. She took it and he walked with her toward the parking lot, this time not having to keep her on her feet like before.

She was sobering up, but she had an odd feeling that the best part of her night was just beginning.


End file.
